“On a warrant from de Sartines?”
“Heavens, no, as a servant. We have a man in all the important houses, and I believe one in the house of the Count.”
“Certainly we have. You know that Sartines suspects him, and where suspicion goes there our servants go also. Stay.” He rang a bell.
When a clerk answered the summons, he gave him an order, and the clerk returned in a few minutes with a huge book, bound in vellum and with a brass lock.
Beauregard took a bunch of keys from his pocket, selected one and opened the book.
He turned to the pages marked C, and ran his finger down the first column for the space of three inches.
“Yes. Jumeau is acting as pantry-man in the service of the Count.”
“He is almost useless,” said Lavenne; “but let us be thankful that he is there. Now let us send at once, and tell him that his mother is dying and that he must come at once; his cousin—that is to say, myself—is ready to take on his duties. As the cousin, I will take the message myself. I have just left the service of Monsieur—shall we say, Monsieur Gaston Le Roux?—he belongs to us. You will send a man round to him at once for a testimonial. The pantry-man’s duty is to look after the plate, to clean it, keep it in order, be responsible for it, and to do a few light duties.”